


lay back and wave through the daylight.

by tousled



Category: DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: F/M, First Dates, Human Disaster Tuffnut Thorston, Picnics, Race To The Edge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 10:56:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8399026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tousled/pseuds/tousled
Summary: "It's the perfect grassy knoll for a picnic." Tuff announces, his brows scrunching together. He makes a motion with a hand, like he thinks his explanation is obvious, come on Astrid, get with the program.
AKA the picnic (disaster) fic.





	

**Author's Note:**

> the picnic date is finally in Fic form, now with added yak jerky. based on the "you're no picnic Astrid spiel" from Dragons RTTE Edge of Disaster Part 1 and the rambling ocurring in [this post](http://despiteherself.tumblr.com/post/149839599629/rufnut-despiteherself-rufnut). for httyd rare pair week 2016, day 1 (28th oct), prompt: fall. 
> 
> title from [daylight by matt and kim](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WgBeu3FVi60), it's such a tuffnut song? all the nonsense phrases and bright, cheerful tone. this song has been stuck in my head since 2008. 
> 
> this is not beta'd, let me know if you spot any mistakes. or like, syntax errors. or like wildly inaccurate locations of wildflowers, i know nothing abt Scandinavian wildflowers. comments are adored, please let me know what you think. also, i was going for a more playful astrid, like?? as in from edge of disaster learnt to hang out w/ the twins and be a bit more wild, hope that comes across well!

There's a loud _thud,_ and Astrid jumps, half-sharpened hatchet at the ready. 

 

"We _really_ need to do something about those stairs," Tuff wheezes. He drops his outstretched hand to the floor alongside his knees, breathing like he's run a marathon. "There's _way_ too many,  we need like a giant bucket to winch ourselves up and down on. Like a well, but of people instead of water.  A people well." 

 

"A what?" Astrid swings the hatchet down off her shoulder, plonking the end of the ground and leaning on it. Tuff pushes himself up, an ungangly movement of too long limbs that has Astrid biting back a smile. 

"A people well, though, it does need a snappier name." Tuff clicks his fingers, mouth wide. "A Tuffalator." 

 

"That'll never catch on," Astrid laughs, but honestly she's not so sure. Tuff's naming conventions  _do_ seem to catch on, even if it's all absolutely  _ridiculous._ Sleuther doesn't even make sense. "Did you come all the way up here just to tell me about the stairs?" 

 

Knowing Tuff, the answer is a likely a yes as it is as no. The number of stairs has been a point of contention since the siege of the Edge. Astrid's not changing the stairs, they're fine. Besides, they have _dragons._ Anyone can just fly up here. Tuff throws a hand out, like an exclamation, and then claps it to his mouth. 

 

"Yes!" Tuff's hand shoots out to grasp at Astrid's wrist, a loose circle of fingers as he half turns to start back down the steps. "There's something going on, you're needed right away." 

"Why didn't you lead with that?" Astrid gives Tuff's profile a Look, picking up the pace down the stairs. 

 

Upon reaching the bottom of Astrid's staircase Tuff shifts to a hard right, the both of them almost tripping over themselves. From higher up, Astrid could definitely see Snotlout and Fishlegs in the main courtyard of the Edge, the tip of Toothless' tail turning around the dome. She looks over her shoulder at them, pretty sure that's where "need right away," would be but, Tuff's darting past the stables to the edge of the escarpments. 

 

They walk the path towards the western watch tower, veering off into the forest on some path that only seems obvious to Tuff. The pace has slowed, but Tuff takes each step with a single-minded determination. It's not until they come to a clearing, an old Typhomerang mark sporting a collection of wild flowers that Tuff drops Astrid's wrist to gesture, announcing "Aha!" 

 

"What," Astrid looks around the clearing, at the lush grass and the abundance of monkshood and bluebells. It's quiet; absolutely peaceful, really. There's even a thrum of birdsong. "What exactly am I needed for?" 

"It's the _perfect_ grassy knoll for a picnic." Tuff announces, his brows scrunching together. He makes a motion with a hand, like he thinks his explanation is _obvious, come on Astrid, get with the program_ and - 

 

_\- oh._

A grassy knoll. For a picnic. Just like Tuff had kind of said. Sort of. Which, Astrid hadn't _really_ been sure that whole spiel had actually been Tuffnut for 'a picnic would be great idea for a date.' Or maybe 'take me on a picnic date please,' but, it had felt a little like it. 

 

"Oh." Astrid says. 

 

"Took _forever_ to find, but Chicken and me, we finally did it." Tuff rambles, hands wildly adding posturing to the story. He smiles, bright and all teeth, skin by his eyes crinkling and Astrid takes the offered hand to be tugged over to the grassy knoll.

"You didn't bring a blanket." She says, half a laugh caught up in her throat. A blanket was definitely an Issue, she remembers. It looks like the only thing either of them brought is themselves and Astrid's half sharpened hatchet. 

 

"Sure I did." Tuff pulls a handkerchief out a pocket, half an apple tumbling out onto the grass. He stares at the apple half, like he almost expects it to unfold into a picnic rug. When it doesn't Tuff darts to pick it up, wiping it on the edge of his shirt. "Okay, so no. I didn't. But grass is like, nature's blanket. Or is it nature's carpet? Could really be either, if you picked the grass and wove it together it could be a blanket. But, it's kind of like a carpet now."  

 

Astrid laughs, the feeling warm in her throat as it bubbles out, swinging a hand to rest Tuff's shoulder. Really, she should feel more annoyed, but there's a specific lack of irritation curled up in her chest. Teasing, she adds, "I'll believe you, just this once." 

 

"Once?" Tuff says in the Thorston equivalent of a mutter, and his whole upper torso moves with the eye roll. Still, a moment later he looks nonplussed, dropping to sit on the grassy knoll. 

 

Puddled amongst an array of wildflowers, Tuff offers up the rest of his handkerchief. There's another apple half and several pieces of dried fruit. Sitting down she accidentally crumbling a wood stitchwort flower stalk under a knee. The hatchet crushes half a dozen flowers, but the glen is so full of them it doesn't seem like there's any way to sit without squashing something. Slightly hesitant, Astrid takes the non dropped apple half only because the handkerchief _looks_ clean. If it had been somewhat dirty, Tuff could keep his pocket fruit. A bag would have been better, really. 

 

"Is this all you brought?" Astrid looks at the handkerchief between them, at the four pieces of dried apricot. One, under further inspection, is actually yak jerky. 

"Mhmm." Tuff nods. He's _absolutely_ ridiculous, Astrid is _not_ endeared. "I checked and Ruff said it was good picnic food." 

 

"You're absolutely terrible, the both of you." Astrid says. 

 

She whole-heartedly means it, and not even a little bit fondly. Or, perhaps, the tiniest bit of fond possible. It's unfair how quickly the twins seem to grow on people, work ethic and rowdiness aside. In spite of.  

 

"Sure," Tuff replies through a mouthful of apple. He eats the entire thing, even the half core and Astrid stares, impressed if slightly worried. Her own half core is lost to a careful throw into the woods. Offering up the rest of the handkerchief Tuff half flops back into a stilted laying position. Astrid takes the yak jerky and one apricot, finishing chewing before she copies Tuff's sprawled position over the grass. 

 

It's, peaceful. Relaxing even. 

 

Tuff's probably going to choke eating dried fruit whilst laying down, but it's _nice._ Astrid likes vigilance and constant training, there's too many dangers around like unfriendly wild dragons and dragon hunters to be really doing aimless nothingness. Even just the Edge needs constant supervision, but laying in the sun with Tuff is a break that's enjoyable. 

 

Or rather, half in the sun. Clouds have been gathering, dappled light across the glen, patches of cool and warmth across Astrid's face. 

 

"That cloud looks like Snotlout's boots after Barf and Belch chewed them and then Hookfang set them on fire." Tuff announces, hand pointing out a dark cloud that doesn't really look like anything. It probably exactly looks like Snotlout's boots after chewing and being set on fire. It looks like it's going to _rain._

"I think," Astrid gets out before the heavens open and large, round rain drops start pouring. 

"You think what?" Tuff asks, sitting up and squinting against the distortion of the water falling. 

 

It's going to rain, Astrid thinks. Not much to think about now, though. "It's raining." 

"Yes, it appears that it is." Tuff agrees with a funny little nod, holding a hand up to keep the water off his face. 

"We're getting wet." Astrid continues, adding "let's not get wet," before Tuff can agree again. 

 

Astrid pushes up, grabbing her hatchet from it's spot next to her. Brushing her legs off, she notices there's grass stains on the fabric at her knees and thinks of the missing blanket again. She offers a hand to Tuff, and once he's finished tying his handkerchief like a bracelet around his wrist he takes it. He's got grass stains, on his knees and elbows and he grins, like being soaked through is fun and pulls Astrid into a jog. 

 

Their hands are still linked as Tuff leads the way back, stepping in a muddy puddle that splatters all up his trousers. Astrid laughs, steadying him in case slipping pulls her down too. The rain gets heavier still, a darker, angrier cloud inching closer to the island and they morph the jog into a run. 

 

Tuff laughs when Astrid skids in a patch of mud, slipping to her knee and she thinks about pulling him down too, laughing as she flicks mud at him from her hatchet. They finally make it out of the trees to the watch tower and slip a turn to bolt down the path back to Dragon's Edge. Tuff's still laughing, hair plastered to his cheeks and neck, jacket hanging heavy on his shoulders. He looks a mess, Astrid feels like the same kind of bedraggled rat mess too. 

 

_Oh,_ she thinks. Looking at their fingers twisted together, at Tuff's wide mouthed, goofy smile and the soft expression in the corner of his eyes. He's wonderful, he's ridiculous. Astrid feels kind of the same way.  _I could just about fall in love with him._

 

"Hurry up," She shouts over the first crackle of thunder, "I bet the others are drinking warmed yak's milk." 

"Ruff's probably drinking warmed mead." Tuff shouts back, wiggling his eyebrows. So, upon reaching the Edge, they make turn for the twin's buildings, taking the stairs two at time until Tuff's swearing about stair numbers again. 

 

Each stair, he slows down an increment more, huffing like it's a marathon. Astrid snorts, letting go on his hand to let Tuff dramatically crawl up the steps. She hefts her hatchet over her shoulder and darts up to the overhang in front of the twin's house, finally out of the rain. 

 

"You should get working on that Tuffaltor," She calls down to him, laughing when the only response is a groan. 

 

Astrid'shair is sticking to her forehead, clothes heavy with water and if she doesn't get out of them soon she's going to start shivering. The whole day's been mostly a disaster, wet and hungry and possibly going to get a cold, but she can't stop a smile darting up her cheeks. Tuff finally appears at the front porch, smiling goofily too. 

 

They're dripping all over the place, grinning at each other. It's ridiculous, it's _wonderful._

 

"You know, I was wrong." Tuff says, pushing a mass of wet hair back behind an ear.  "You _are_ a picnic, Astrid Hofferson." 

 

"I don't even know what that _means._ " Astrid's voice is undercut by a bubbling sort of laugh and she lifts her hand to push back more hair falling in Tuff's face. She lets her hand drop to his neck, fingers curling around the muscle. Her thumb rests on the hinge of his jaw. "I had a really great time, even though your whole picnic was a fucking disaster, so like, thanks." 

 

"You're welcome _,_ my fair Astrid." Tuff nods into Astrid tugging his face down. This close, Astrid can see droplets of water collected on Tuff's eyelashes, 

"I'm going to kiss you now," She says, instead of calling him an idiot, words against his mouth. 

 

Even though he's cool to touch, underneath it's all warmth like rays of sunlight caressing skin. He's still smiling, maybe he can't stop, grin pressing into Astrid's mouth. She brings her other hand up, framing his face and trying to pull him just that bit closer. 

 

And then, there's a loud wolf whistle, sharp and piercing. They spring back, eyes darting over.  

 

"Get a room!" Ruff shouts, leaning in the doorway to her room, oversized mug in one hand. 

 

Astrid pulls away, dropping her hands to her side. There's still a dopey smile curving up Tuff's mouth, knows her's is its mirror. Looking at Ruff's smug grin, even half hidden behind the mug of mead, Astrid _knows_ she'd been orchestrating parts of the picnic. Terrible amount and type of food included. 

 

"Trust me," Astrid says,  "Ruff's dating advice is mediocre at best.  I know half the disaster picnic was from information she gave you. Next time, I'd ask Fishlegs for picnic food." 

"I thought she was helpful," Tuff shrugs, and really, he _would._ "Next time, I'll get Fishlegs to _make_ the picnic food." 

 

"It's a date," Astrid picks up her hatchet, she'll put it away and change into dry clothes before dropping back in for warm mead. "Just don't bring Fishlegs along with the food." 


End file.
